


we could take it from the top

by singsongsung



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (except perhaps not), 2020 US Presidential Election, F/F, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Top Twyla Sands, Vaginal Fingering, but only the good parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singsongsung/pseuds/singsongsung
Summary: November 7th, 2020 seems, to Alexis, like a good day to switch things up.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Comments: 19
Kudos: 32
Collections: Politics? What Politics?, Up for Anything – a Schitt's Creek WLW porn collection





	we could take it from the top

**Author's Note:**

> My links never work, unfortunately, but this fic exists because of a tweet by @jaboukie reading "IF GEORGIA CAN FLIP SO CAN YOU!!! I DONT WANNA HEAR NUNNA THAT STRICT TOP SHIT." 
> 
> Title from "34 + 35" by Ariana Grande.

Twyla’s looking at her phone, still laughing at a Twitter meme while texting a series of blue heart emojis to her groupchat with her cousins in New Mexico and Virginia, when Alexis’ teeth are suddenly tugging at her earlobe, and a warm hand is sliding up beneath her _nevertheless, she persisted_ tee. She gasps at the overwhelming sensation of Alexis kissing her neck and tweaking her nipple simultaneously, her phone toppling out of her hands, bouncing off the mattress and onto the floor.

“Hey, babe,” Alexis murmurs against her neck. The hand that’s not currently inside Twyla’s bralette finds its way into Twyla’s own now-empty hand, pressing blush pink ribbons into her palm.

“Hey,” Twyla replies breathlessly, her head falling back against Alexis’ shoulder, her back arching as Alexis’ thumb flicks across her nipple.

She bites back a moan, but Alexis must hear the catch in her breathing, because she says, “ _Yeah_ , Twy,” appreciatively, before adding, “Lay down for me.”

Twyla tries to get herself to focus, past the stress of the last few days, past the sound of people cheering and yelling outside Alexis’ Manhattan apartment, past what Alexis is _doing_ to her, hand abandoning Twyla’s breast and sliding down her stomach, pressing against her over her panties. All she can manage at first is: “What?” She blinks several times in quick succession and lifts up the ribbons. “I thought you wanted me to - ”

“My turn,” Alexis says. She’s run out of patience and is now maneuvering Twyla’s body herself, nudging Twyla up the mattress.

Twyla frowns faintly, even as she settles on her back, her head on a pillow that smells like a combination of Alexis’ shampoo and the lavender sleep spray Twyla sent in a care package months ago. She’s not _opposed_ to the role reversal, to being the one at the mercy of Alexis’ silky but surprisingly strong restraints, but she’s grown used to being the one in charge, the one setting the pace, the one making Alexis beg, both syllables of her name drawn out of Alexis’ mouth in a desperate melody.

Alexis straddles her hips and kisses her, pushes Twyla’s shirt up beneath her arms and makes quick work of removing Twyla’s bralette. She takes Twyla’s hands in her own, weaving their fingers together slowly, tenderly, like she wants every little moment of contact to mean something, before she presses Twyla’s hands up above her head. Twyla can feel Alexis grin against her mouth before Alexis breaks the kiss, gazing down at Twyla with hunger in her eyes.

“Aw, babe,” she says, kissing the corner of Twyla’s mouth, Twyla’s nose, and Twyla’s cheek before she bites Twyla’s bottom lip, hard enough that Twyla’s hips rock up and her hands clutch at Alexis’ tank top. “Don’t look at me like that,” Alexis continues, her voice a little rougher. She kisses Twyla’s lower lip more softly, soothingly, before she adds, “If Georgia can flip, so can you.”

Twyla’s chest heaves as Alexis reaches up above her head, tying each of Twyla’s wrists to her bedposts. “Lex,” she says. “I don’t even think that’s official yet.”

“Not,” Alexis says, apparently satisfied with her work and shifting to stretch her body out along Twyla’s, “the point, babe.”

She kisses Twyla hard and dirty, their breasts pressed together through the thin fabric of Alexis’ shirt, her thigh between both of Twyla’s, rocking gently back against the way Twyla’s hips are rolling up.

“You’re so wet,” Alexis breathes in between kisses, her hand sliding beneath Twyla’s back, bringing them even closer together.

Twyla nods a little, absently, biting her lower lip as she grinds against Alexis’ thigh, seeking more pressure on her clit. “Lex,” she murmurs. “Babe - ”

“Tell me, Twy,” Alexis interrupts. Her eyes are dark as she looks at Twyla, irises the colour of the ocean.

Twyla stares at her for a moment, gorgeous eyes and pretty mouth and flushed cheeks, before she realizes what Alexis wants from her. “I’m - I’m so wet,” she says, rolling her hips again. “So wet for you. You can feel it.”

“Mm.” Alexis dips her head, kissing the valley between Twyla’s breasts, her mouth so soft, not nearly enough.

“Please,” Twyla says quietly, and it’s only after she says it that she realizes it’s exactly what Alexis is waiting for her to say. “ _Please_. Alexis, please.”

Alexis trails her lips halfway down Twyla’s stomach, then flattens her tongue on Twyla’s skin and licks a stripe back up to her chest. “What can I do for you, Twyla?” she asks guilelessly.

Twyla finds herself trying to shift, to get Alexis’ mouth lower again, but Alexis’ hands on her hips hold her still. “I want to come,” she answers. “Please, babe. Make me come.”

Torturously slow, Alexis circles one of Twyla’s nipples with her tongue. “Hmm,” she murmurs, the sound vibrating through Twyla’s skin, through her body, until it pulses between her legs.

Above her head, Twyla’s fingers flex uselessly. “You make me come so hard, Lex. So good, it’s so good. Please.”

Alexis surges up to kiss her again, clearly pleased with the praise. “Of _course_ , babe,” she says, magnanimously. “What’ll you say if you want to pause?”

Twyla tilts her chin up, greedily, for another kiss, and Alexis gives it to her. When Alexis pulls away, she lifts her eyebrows at Twyla, and Twyla knows that when Alexis is in something, she’s _in it_ , so she says, begrudging even amidst her fierce desire to be touched: “Arizona.”

“That’s perfect, Twy,” Alexis says softly, almost adoringly. She stamps one more kiss against Twyla’s mouth, and then kisses Twyla’s chin, her throat, the dip in her clavicle. Her mouth moves so slowly down Twyla’s body, teeth occasionally grazing skin, one hand holding Twyla’s hips down, the other squeezing Twyla’s breast. Twyla’s so keyed up by the time Alexis settles between her legs and tugs her underwear to the side that that she moans loudly from the gentlest stroke of Alexis’ tongue. Alexis kisses her cunt, arms hooking beneath Twyla’s thighs.

Twyla writhes beneath her, desperate to get a hand into Alexis’ hair but unable to. Alexis’ face is pressed right into her, _buried_ between Twyla’s legs, fucking Twyla with her tongue before she dedicates all her attention to Twyla’s clit, building a pace with her lips and tongue that has Twyla crying out her name, crying out sounds that mean nothing. Alexis’ fingers press into Twyla’s thighs and her tongue circles against Twyla’s clit as she hums, and Twyla’s orgasm crashes over her, her head thrown back, nails digging into her palms. 

She’s still riding through its last waves when Alexis starts sucking on her clit, and then her pleasure is building again, overtaking her, the muscles in her thighs quivering, her hips lifting and pressing hard into Alexis’ mouth. Alexis thrusts two fingers inside of her, and Twyla falls into her second orgasm, clenching around Alexis’ long fingers, chanting, “Lex, Lex, fuck, _Lex._ ”

“Gorgeous, Twy,” Alexis says, her voice just barely audible over the blood rushing in Twyla’s ears. Her wet mouth presses a kiss against the inside of Twyla’s thigh. “You’re so gorgeous.”

She puts her mouth back on Twyla after a beat, but Twyla shakes her head against the pillow. “I can’t,” she says, breathless. “I can’t.”

Alexis licks gently, like all she wants is to taste Twyla. “Sure, babe?”

“Yeah,” Twyla says; she’s too sensitive. She exhales something that’s almost a laugh, her eyes closing briefly.

“Good?” Alexis asks, a knowing note in her voice. She kisses along Twyla’s hipbones, over her belly button, and up along both sides of her rib cage. She straddles Twyla’s hips again, rocking her own hips a little; Twyla can feel, against her bare skin, that Alexis’ underwear is soaked through. Her impulse to touch Alexis, to rub soft, teasing circles over her underwear until Alexis’ hips are jerking and her breath is coming out in short bursts, has her wrists straining against the silk tied around them. 

“Always, Lex,” she says, opening her eyes and swallowing hard, full of longing as her eyes roam over Alexis’ body. 

“Yeah?” Alexis asks. There’s a smirk on her mouth, lips shiny, but there’s something more delicate about the look in her eyes.

“ _Yes_ ,” Twyla says, adamantly. “Alexis - kiss me.”

“You’re not in charge here, Ms. Sands,” Alexis says, but she’s already leaning down, her mouth meeting Twyla's. Their kiss is slow and soft, as is Alexis’ touch, tucking Twyla’s hair back behind her ear.

“Baby,” Twyla breathes, not quite breaking the kiss. She’s done, almost to an unbearable degree, with having her own hands uninvolved. She can hear how lovestruck she sounds, but she doesn’t care. “Let me touch you.”

Alexis nods, their noses brushing, and reaches up to free Twyla’s wrists. As she does, Twyla bites lightly, playfully, at one of her breasts, making Alexis yelp and giggle.

Twyla rolls out her right wrist while Alexis unties her left, and then reaches out to grab both ribbons as soon as Alexis is done. “I’m keeping these,” she says firmly, with a faux-stern arch of her eyebrow.

Alexis laughs, getting off of Twyla to stretch out next to her instead. Twyla shoves the ribbons under the pillow and reaches for her immediately, one hand on Alexis’ cheek, her thumb tracing Alexis’ bottom lip, while her other hand begins trailing down Alexis’ body.

“Okay,” Alexis says, mock-solemn, eyes sparkling. “But only ’til we get the results of the runoff.”


End file.
